


Loud and Queer

by mychemicallyimbalancedromance



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, jack giving terrible advice, jack is disaster bi, so much sprace, spot asking jack for advice, spot is disaster gay, sprace, sprace first date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mychemicallyimbalancedromance/pseuds/mychemicallyimbalancedromance
Summary: Spot desperately needs advice before a first date, so he asks the only openly bi person he knows.Unfortunately, that person is Jack Kelly.





	Loud and Queer

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write a little Sprace blurb because I was going through a bit of writers block and wanted to finally write something in one of my favorite fandoms. Hope you enjoy!

“You’ve been on dates with guys before, right?”  
Jack looked at the caller ID on his phone screen. It read, “Fucker”.  
That could be any one of his friends. That’s why you use more descriptive contact names, Jack, goddamnit.   
He shifted the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, who’s this?”  
“Spot.”  
Oh. He made a mental note to change the contact name to “Brooklyn Fucker”.  
“Sorry...” He finished washing the last plate and turned the water off. “What was the question again?”  
Spot sighed, making it abundantly clear how annoying he thought Jack was. “Have you been on any dates with guys?”  
Ah, shit. This was a long day and the last thing he needed was an asshole from Brooklyn giving him some thinly veiled homophobic bullshit. But...fine, swearing at someone did seem like a fine way to spend the evening. “Yes, Spot, I am bisexual, I have been on dates with guys. Why do you ask?”  
“Well, um...” There was some shifting noises at the other hand. “What’s it like?”  
Whatever Jack had been expecting, it was not that. “You mean...like, sex-wise?”  
“NO!” The crashing sounds made Jack cringe and pull the phone away from himself lest he lose his eardrums. “No, that...just...fuck...you know what, forget it, I-“  
Jack dried his hands on the communal kitchen towel. “No, no, no! What did you mean?”  
There was such a long pause that Jack thought Spot had just put the phone somewhere and left. “Well...is it different than being on a date with a girl?”  
“There’s a lot more penis involved.”  
“Okay, I’m hanging up.”  
Jack tried not to laugh and he almost succeeded. “No! No, no, look, okay, I’m sorry. Uh...Spot, why are you asking?”  
More uncomfortable shifting sounds.  
A realization dawned on Jack. “Spot, are you-“  
“Yeah.”  
“You’re-“  
“Yeah.”  
“Holy shit!!!”  
“Yeah.”  
“Jesus Christ, you’re so deep in the closet you must have reached Narnia by now!!!” Jack clapped a hand over his mouth. Yeah, way to make the coming out process a nice time, Kelly. “I’m sorry, I just...wow, my gaydar sucks.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Okay...” He went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, ignoring the groans. Cons of living in a foster home: fifteen guys. One bathroom. “And it’s your first date with a guy?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Man, you’re gonna need a lot of tips.”  
“I’m aware of that!”  
A lovely and terrible conversation at the same time. “So, uh...what are you gonna wear?” Jack hated himself for uttering this sentence.   
“...Are you fucking serious?”  
“Hey, which one of us is in a relationship right now?”  
“...I’m just gonna wear what I always wear.”  
“The drug dealer outfit?!”  
“What?!”  
Jesus Christ, he needed a lot of help. “That black hoodie you wear that makes you look like a drug dealer!”  
“I am a drug dealer, Kelly.”  
Jack sat down on the bathroom floor and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, he don’t need to know that! Have you EVER been on a first date before?!”  
“Yeah! A few times! Like two years ago!”  
He abandoned all his remaining dignity and just let out a loud groan directly into the direction of the phone screen.  
“...okay, what am I supposed to wear?”  
“I dunno! Like a T-shirt and jeans and a hoodie that doesn’t make your occupation loud and clear!!!”  
“Okay, okay, Jesus! Fine! I’ll just wear my red hoodie.”  
On second thought, Spot was way beyond help. “So it’s either Drug Dealer or Gang Colors?!”  
“Fuck you, Kelly!!!”  
Someone pounded on the door and Jack put down the phone long enough to yell, “Wait a minute!” He held the phone back up. “Okay, fine. What are you planning to do with this poor guy?”  
“This poor g- I ain’t gonna murder him!”  
“What are you gonna do?”  
“I dunno! Go to Starbucks or something.”  
The pounding resumed. “Yeah, okay, good enough. Listen, I gotta go.”  
“No, no, wait! What the fuck am I supposed to say to him?!”  
Jack was in the process of getting up, but he sat back down at this and told the person at the door to fuck off again. This shit was better than “Love, Simon”.  
He cleared his throat and tried to pretend his love life skills weren’t absolutely horrible. “...you’re really worried about this.”  
“Well, if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t call you.”  
“Well...it’s gonna be fine, just...talk how you normally talk. Be yourself and all that shit. It ain’t that hard.”  
Spot mumbled, “It is that hard.”  
“Oh, come on, you’ll be fine. I gotta go, bye.”  
“Bitch.”  
Jack hung up, stood, and opened the door. Race ran past him and started doing whatever mysterious things he did to his hair to make it look “presentable”. Jack could only laugh. Race was the reason people thought gays were flamboyant and he wasn’t even gay.   
He got out of the bathroom and turned back to ask, “What’s with the hair? Where are you going?”  
Race glared at him, which wasn’t really threatening since his head looked like a bird’s nest. “What does it look like? I’ve got a date!”  
“Oh, really? With who?”  
“Spot Conlon.”  
In later days, Jack would take pride in the fact that he remained silent for a whole fifteen seconds before screaming, “What the fuck?!”


End file.
